


Staring at the Sun

by botwriter



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Claude POV, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, idk - Freeform, jk but it was a very sudden I Need To Write This, these tags are hilarious, this came to me in a dream, throws this at u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22300288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botwriter/pseuds/botwriter
Summary: mostly short chapters/snippets of claude and dimitri's interactions. concise, romantic, sexy.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 30
Kudos: 222





	1. Under the Moon

“Come on, your Princeliness-”

“Is this- really- necessary-”

Claude had Dimitri’s hand in his as he dragged him out to the dance floor. A couple cheers from the girls were drowned out as the next song began to play, and Claude took the lead dancing with an increasingly uncomfortable looking Dimitri.

“See?” he asked, swinging sideways as the prince struggled to get his footing, “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“You certainly surprised me,” Dimitri answered, quickly regaining his composure. There was just a hint of red on his cheeks, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Claude, who smiled knowingly at him.

“Guess it isn’t in a Prince’s blood to let someone else lead for a change,” Claude quipped. Dimitri’s piercing blue eyes snapped up at him, and Claude smiled knowingly.  _ Hit a nerve there. _ A second later however, Dimitri’s hand escaped his; he lifted his elbow, hitting away Claude’s other hand from his waist. For a moment Claude thought Dimitri was just going to walk off the dance floor, but instead he effectively, in one quick movement, swapped their positions - and began to push and pull Claude throughout the ballroom, narrowly avoiding other couples as they picked up the pace.

Claude nearly tripped over his own feet, but Dimitri had a vice grip on his hands now and kept him upright. His posture had lifted, and now Dimitri looked down at him with an appraising sort of look, like he was sizing him up. 

“It’s just what I’m used to,” Dimitri said, his voice quiet. “You can’t relate to that, can you?” 

Claude’s eyes widened. His hand twitched within Dimitri’s grip. So the boar prince Felix often mentioned - he really was in there, somewhere. There was a little voice in Claude’s head now wondering if his plan tonight had backfired; but he stopped himself before the doubts took hold. He’d learned something about Dimitri tonight. First off, that he could dance; secondly, that he had a quicker wit than Claude had given him credit for. Nevermind how sharp those blue eyes were...Claude could get lost in them if he didn’t keep a hold on himself. It was an unsettling feeling, for someone who usually had that effect on others.

The song came to an end. Dimitri bowed, turned on his heel, and left without saying another word, leaving Claude standing wordlessly in the middle of the ballroom as another song began. A crowd of girls sitting by the Golden Deer table were watching him restlessly, but he didn’t have the energy to dance all night. He headed for the other side, slipped quietly out the open doorway, and walked out into the cool night air. 

Moonlight was pouring down into the courtyard. Claude rested against the wall next to the door, the music sounding further away now, and savored how cold and quieter it was outside. He stared up at the waning moon, trying to get Dimitri’s eyes out of his head. Had he always looked that way? Had he always looked at  _ Claude _ that way? The Prince had been nothing more than a playtoy for him until now, someone to get a rise out of, but… 

“Done already?” 

Claude glanced sideways in surprise, seeing Dimitri standing in the light of the ballroom with his arms folded and his head tilted.

“I’m actually not a huge fan of social gatherings,” Claude replied honestly, looking back at the moon. “Needed some air.” 

“Really?” Dimitri asked, sounding intrigued. “That’s surprising, coming from you. And here I thought you’d be dancing all night with all the girls.” 

Claude grinned a little bit to himself. Of course he’d think that. He let his eyes fall shut, just for a moment, to try to get his composure back - get extroverted, outgoing, dance-all-night Claude back - but when he opened them and went to stand up from the wall, Dimitri was in front of him. Claude froze. 

“What? Want more dance practice?” Claude asked with a weak grin, now fighting hard to keep his cool. Dimitri rested a hand on Claude’s shoulder, and though it was a gentle touch at first, it quickly hardened and pushed him back into the wall. Flashbacks of being beaten up by classmates plagued him, and for just a second he wondered if he had finally stepped too far with Dimitri and ruined everything - but then the prince pushed forward and pressed his lips to Claude’s in a strangely soft kiss.

His breath caught in his throat. He only caught a glimpse of Dimitri’s bright blue eyes watching him under long lashes before they fell shut, and Claude shut his in turn, feeling a fire light in his chest. Despite the inescapable heat now on his cheeks, despite the way Dimitri was holding him in place - the way he lifted his jawline up to bring him closer - the way he kissed… was just as Claude would have expected from a Prince. He had no choice but to be completely in his grasp. It was entirely uncomfortable and soothing all at once.  _ Give in, _ it said.

Claude had no sense of how long it lasted, but nonetheless, Dimitri pulled away all too fast. There was a look of wanting in his eyes, of sadness, and a silent pleading; almost like he was telling Claude,  _ I hope you understand.  _ It only lasted a second before he left, his shoes clicking on the floor as he walked back into the ballroom.

Claude’s lips fell open, his mind racing. He sunk down along the wall until he was sitting against it on the cold stone floor, and looked back up at the moon from underneath the stone buttresses. A heavy breath escaped him, his shoulders falling. 

_ Fuck. _


	2. Masks

Claude expected that, in the days and weeks following, Dimitri would go about his business as if nothing had happened. He spent the rest of his night after the dance steeling himself, readying his composure for when he inevitably saw the Prince again. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this flustered about anyone before. Until now, the only person really able to catch him off guard had been Teach; but then again, she was on another level entirely. 

He was right, for a while. Every time he saw Dimitri he shot him the same smile he always did, and Dimitri’s reactions changed slightly each time; a look, a nod, a wave, but never anything more than curt acknowledgment. It was a week later when Claude was having dinner after a long day of lectures and training when Dimitri, suddenly, came to sit across from him.

“Long day?” Dimitri asked, not making eye contact as he cut into his boar. “You’ve been working hard.”

The dining hall was quiet, except for the sound of a few lone students finishing up their meals. The kitchen staff had all left. They were alone.

“Working hard, hardly working,” Claude replied back dismissively, watching Dimitri closely from over the lip of his cup. “And you?”

“There’s a lot going on,” Dimitri replied simply. Finally, his piercing blue eyes lifted. “I envy your ability to be so carefree, Claude.”

“Have you tried it?” Claude asked, and Dimitri’s head tilted to one side. “It’s not so much an attitude as it is a facade. Honestly, I was sure you saw right through it.”

“A… facade?” Dimitri repeated, curiosity twinkling in his eyes. “You’re telling me that even you’re concerned about the current events surrounding us? That it is unsettling?”

“I’m only human,” Claude sighed, dropping his cup to the table and leaning back in his chair as he kept his eyes on Dimitri. He wasn’t a big fan of opening up like this, but the dining hall was mostly empty by this point, and something about Dimitri made him feel… safe. Like it was okay to be honest with him. In truth, the future King was probably the last person he should be showing any signs of weakness to, but… perhaps Dimitri would open up in turn. 

They stared at each other, and in that moment, Claude remembered back to the night of the ball; he fought against the sudden heaviness in his heart and the threat of warmth on his cheeks. Dimitri blinked.

“You’ve got Teach, at least,” Claude said suddenly, trying to take his mind off of that night. “She always makes me feel like things will be okay.”

“Yes,” Dimitri admitted after a pause, “she always seems to put me at ease. But so do you, Claude.”

“Me?” he exclaimed, before he could help it. “Why?”

“Even if it is a facade, that carefree attitude of yours is strangely… grounding. Like when you stare at the stars, and all of your problems somehow feel insignificant, in the grand scheme of things.” Dimitri looked thoughtfully upwards, then back at Claude with a sudden laugh. “I’m sorry. That probably sounds crazy.”

Claude’s lips dropped open. He’d lost count of the nights he’d spent staring at the stars, wondering whether or not he would ever succeed in his dreams. There was a comfort in knowing that perhaps failure was inevitable. A comfort in knowing that, in history, he was just one person who may or may not get anywhere in life. But he had fought so hard to keep the fire in his chest burning, he had given in to the passion for wanting to make a change in the world; it was bittersweet, accepting a fate of wanting to fight but knowing it could all go to shit. It could all be for nothing. But Dimitri… 

“It doesn’t sound crazy,” Claude blurted out, after a quick moment’s thought. “At all. I understand.” 

“I hoped you would,” Dimitri said back with a soft smile. “For all of the rivalry, Claude, I would never wish for us to be enemies.”

“Y-yeah,” Claude stammered, “me neither.”

He laid in bed that night, lost in thought, staring at the wooden ceiling. He couldn’t get Dimitri’s face out of his mind, nor the lingering look he had given him when he finally left that night. Why did he come and sit with him? Why hadn’t he mentioned anything from the ball? What was going through his head? 

Claude lifted an arm above his head, letting out a heavy breath. Out of everyone at the monastery, the two that Claude knew he had to know the best were Edelgard and Dimitri. Edelgard was easy enough; ambitious, cutthroat, and predictably aggressive. Whatever Dimitri had motivating him, however, was hidden behind those blue eyes, and every time Claude tried to find it he found himself swept out to sea. Just thinking of it, Claude pulled his pillow out from under his head and held it above his face, groaning into the fabric. He really was a prince; so put together, with his perfectly sculpted jaw, and table manners, and even the way he had kissed… That kiss had ruined everything. 

He pushed the pillow back off his face, ignoring the warmth that had settled on his cheeks. 

The final battle at Gronder was coming up. He’d have to face off against Dimitri  _ and _ Teach.

He had work to do. 


	3. Don't Like Fighting

The Golden Deer house might have been full of misfits, but they were  _ Claude’s _ misfits, and he’d be damned if he didn’t give them a fighting chance in the final battle. Out of everyone, there were a few key people he was nervous about facing off against; Hubert and Petra, and Felix and Ingrid, namely. Nevermind Edel and Dimitri. Nevermind  _ Teach. _

Claude let out a calm breath as he pulled back on his bow, aiming through the branches and leaves at Dimitri. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face as he tried to focus. The battle had been going for a while now; there was no clear victor yet between the Blue Lions and the Golden Deer. The Black Eagles had been taken out first, seen as the biggest threat, and now only a few battles were left scattered in the trees to determine the winner. 

Dimitri was turning, slowly, surveying the surrounding trees and branches. Claude was pretty sure he was well hidden enough, but as Dimitri’s eyes passed over the shadows where he was hidden, he paused. Claude didn’t give it a second thought - he fired, and the arrow lodged into Dimitri’s left shoulder, causing him to take a step backwards.

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you,” Dimitri said through clenched teeth, pulling the arrow out from his shoulder and tossing it onto the grass. He readied his lance and began walking, then jogging, then sprinting towards where Claude was. “I see you.” 

_ Well that’s terrifying, _ Claude thought, ducking behind a tree as Dimitri pushed into the brush and stabbed down where he had been. The jig was up now, and Claude’s bright yellow cape was caught in a follow-up swing from Dimitri. The blade tore clean through the fabric, and Claude spun, pulling his bow out and shooting another arrow point blank. It hit Dimitri clean in his side, but he kept moving regardless, and struck forward with the lance once more.

It wasn’t a swiping move like Claude had been expecting; it was a stab. It pierced into his right shoulder and then kept going, pushing him back and then down forcefully onto the ground. In a split second, Dimitri was standing above him, holding the lance steady.

“Ouch,” Claude laughed weakly, only half-joking as his fingers twitched around the handle of his bow. “Got me.” 

“Do you yield?” Dimitri asked, pushing the blade a little further in. Claude winced, clenching his teeth as he stared back up at Dimitri. There was no softness in his eyes or expression, not now. Not when he would have wanted to see it the most. If he wanted Claude out of the fight, he could have done it by now, and with much more brutality; and Claude could tell by the look in his eyes, that if he didn’t yield… Dimitri would do just that.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Claude breathed, resigning himself to the loss nonetheless. Dimitri’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Claude sighed, letting his bow fall out of his grip and onto the forest floor. “I yield, I yield.”

Dimitri pulled his lance out of Claude’s shoulder, and not with any sort of gentleness. Claude let out another pained laugh, clutching the wound with his left hand as he got to his feet. Dimitri reached down under his arm and helped pull him up. 

“I don’t like these fights,” Dimitri said, his voice nearly a growl. Claude looked sideways at him in surprise, not expecting to hear his voice drop so low. “I don’t like- nevermind,” he cut himself off, shaking his head. When he looked back at Claude, his expression had dropped, and for a moment they stood like that, with nothing but the birds chirping around them and wind whistling through the leaves.

“Hey,” Claude said carefully, “are you okay?”

“Of course,” Dimitri replied quickly, so quickly that it was almost unbelievable how fast his demeanor had suddenly changed. Claude had seen him in practice fights before at the training ground - hell, they had trained together before - but the way he looked today… something was off. It wasn’t the same demeanor, not even a little bit. Claude’s narrowed his eyes, and Dimitri went to turn away, but Claude caught his wrist before he could leave.

“Dimitri.”

He was still, but Claude could feel him shaking. 

“Don’t tell me you put on a facade too,” Claude said, trying to sound lighthearted even though his heart was aching. Dimitri’s hand tensed into a fist, but then relaxed; he slid it upwards as if he was going to pull away, but then grasped Claude’s hand. Their fingers intertwined for a moment, and Dimitri squeezed Claude’s hand desperately tight for a moment before letting go, and leaving to walk out of the forest

_ Yes, _ Claude thought to himself, watching Dimitri’s blue cape swirling behind him as he left,  _ that’s exactly what you do. _


	4. Blinded

Claude saw Dimitri in a different light, suddenly. Every time they passed in the halls, or saw each other at meal times, or said goodnight after a day of training, there was always a lingering look. There was always a pause. There was always something unsaid. And times were getting tougher. Jeralt had been killed. The monastery had been infiltrated by Edelgard. And every time something new happened, Claude could see Dimitri’s polished exterior cracking, piece by piece, under the pressure. 

To be fair, everyone was beginning to crack under pressure. Edelgard was the Flame Emperor. War was upon them. And apparently, Dimitri - upon seeing Edelgard’s face underneath the mask - had completely lost it, murdered four guards in the span of a few seconds, and nearly killed Edelgard where she stood. 

When Hilda relayed the gossip to him, Claude couldn’t help thinking bitterly _I wish he had managed it,_ but stopped the thought short. Even if Edelgard was responsible for so many deaths, even if she was responsible for the war, it was hard to pass judgment that easily on someone he considered a classmate.

“Claude, you and Dimitri are like… friends, right?” Hilda asked one day, tilting her head as they stood in the otherwise empty Golden Deer classroom. “Why don’t you go check up on him? See if he’s okay?”

“We’re-” Claude paused. He moved his eyes from the floor back up to Hilda, and saw her rosy eyes looking at him knowingly. She was more observant than he gave her credit for. 

“I think he’s preparing with the professor and his class for the assault,” Hilda continued thoughtfully, clasping her hands behind her back. “Maybe catch him on his way out?” 

Claude let out a small sigh. He hoped it wasn’t that obvious to everyone else that he found himself so concerned about Dimitri’s wellbeing. It shouldn’t have been an issue, seeing as he felt like he barely knew him; well, they barely knew each other, in all honesty - but there was an energy Dimitri put off that caught Claude completely unawares. It was magnetic. It was intoxifying. 

He smiled a little at Hilda, who was kind enough to at least _pretend_ to be oblivious about the entire thing.

“Thanks, Hilda.” 

He stayed in the Golden Deer classroom all afternoon, watching as the light slowly became a deeper and deeper orange until the sky through the window at the back of the room was stained purple and pink. The sun was setting by the time he heard the doors of the Blue Lions classroom next door swinging shut. He had been pouring over old textbooks about the splitting of the Alliance from the Kingdom, and nearly falling asleep over one of them when the sound woke him up. 

He staggered to his feet, and by the time he’d come around the desk, he saw a figure standing in the light of the setting sun in the middle of the doorway. It was Dimitri.

From both ends of the classroom, they stared at each other, Claude having frozen mid-step in front of the desk. There was a moment’s pause, and then Dimitri slowly walked into the room, stopping only when he was only a foot or so away from Claude. His expression looked steeled, but sad. 

“Does it still hurt?” 

It took a moment for Claude to register his words. He only realised what he was talking about when Dimitri’s eyes dropped to Claude’s left shoulder, and then back up. 

“Oh,” he breathed, his shoulders falling, “no. I’m all healed up, thanks to Marianne. You must keep your lance pretty sharp, because it was a really clean w-”

Dimitri interrupted him by stepping forward and closing the distance between them. Claude backed up into the desk, looking nervously up at the prince as he looked down at him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but instead of the various scenarios that quickly played out in Claude’s mind - in particular, getting stabbed or kissed (the likelihood of either seemed about 50/50; maybe 40/60) - Dimitri only leaned forward and rested his forehead against Claude’s left shoulder, where the wound had been. 

At first, Claude froze, but then he lifted his arms and tentatively rested his hands on Dimitri’s shoulders. 

“I can’t stop thinking about all of it,” Dimitri whispered, lifting his hands to clutch onto Claude’s arms. “About her… the dagger. Everything they went through.”

“They?”

“I’m beginning to piece it together,” Dimitri continued, ignoring Claude’s question. “All of it. And once I get it - she’s - they’re all... going to pay."

Claude took an impatient breath in. He made it his business to be in the know with what was happening around the monastery. Others had noticed Dimitri's slowly slipping composure. The whispers had started. And Claude, who often went out of his way to eavesdrop, to listen, to probe conversations for information that could eventually benefit him... found himself listening for entirely different reasons. Now, with Dimitri opening up to him, he almost felt guilty. He suddenly didn't want to know the truth. He didn't want to feel like he was taking advantage of him.

“Hey,” Claude said, interrupting his own thoughts, “look at me.” 

Dimitri was frozen. Claude let out a frustrated breath and adjusted his right arm, moving it to carefully cup the side of Dimitri’s face and tilt it upwards. His eyes, usually so calm and blue and sharp, looked more like a tumultuous sea. He wanted to find out what was going on, desperately - but more than that... 

“I don’t want you getting hurt."

Dimitri’s eyes widened. Tears brimmed and then trickled down his cheeks as he dropped his head again against Claude’s hand, shutting his eyes tight.

“This is useless,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know why I came to you.” 

“And I don’t know why I’m so invested in you, but here we are.”

“Invested?” Dimitri asked, stepping away from him. Claude leaned back on the desk, resting his weight on his hands and crossing his ankles.

“Yeah, invested,” he replied, frowning. “Ever since the night at the ball. You’re a lot more fucked up than you let on.” 

“And you?” Dimitri countered, looking distinctly upset as he glared back at Claude and wiped a few errant tears away. “You’re not?” 

“I think I’m doing a better job fighting off my demons than you are,” Claude snapped, wishing he didn’t feel so angry at Dimitri, because the truth was that he was heartbroken. “Why do you come to me if you won’t let me help?”

“Help?” Dimitri asked, taking a step backwards. “You can’t help.”

Claude stood up from the desk and folded his arms. He raised an eyebrow at Dimitri - a silent question of _why, then?_ , and Dimitri only stared wordlessly back. He looked as if he didn’t even know the answer himself. Twilight was settling in, and the room suddenly became much more dim as the sun dipped behind the towers of Garreg Mach, casting the courtyard and the classrooms in milky shadow. 

“You blind me,” Dimitri finally said, his voice so quiet that Claude barely heard him. “Looking at you is like staring at the sun. I just wanted some of what you have. I don’t want all of these ghosts haunting me. I just want to feel normal.”

Claude’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to wrap his head around the depth of what Dimitri had said. There was no time to feel normal, no time to deal with the war that was on the doorstep, no time for anything more than acknowledging _this is the way it is._ He hated how badly he wanted to step forward and kiss him again. He hated how much he wanted to feel his touch again, to have him close, to feel safe and warm with him there… and to perhaps give that sensation back in turn. He didn’t feel normal, even if others thought he did. He was terrified. His grandfather was dying. He was next in line to rule the Alliance, which was fractured more than it was united. And he was still just a kid in a monastery trying to keep everything together. 

Footsteps from the end of the classroom distracted both of them. Claude looked up as Dimitri turned around, and there in the doorway now stood Teach. She rested a hand on her hip and stared at them, expectantly, her green eyes bright despite the lack of lighting around them. Some sort of jealous anger burned up in Claude’s chest, mixed with regret, but not for any choices he had personally made. For whatever reason, he just found himself desperately wishing that things, somehow, were different. 

Dimitri looked back at Claude, just once, and hesitated - then walked through the aisle of desks to Byleth.

“Get some rest,” she called, from the end of the room. Claude lifted a hand in acknowledgment, and watched as the two of them left together, leaving him alone in the empty classroom.

_I should have just hugged him._


	5. 5 Years Past

Claude spent years thinking about the last time he had seen Dimitri. He’d left before anyone could stop him, during the battle at Garreg Mach, chasing after Edelgard with Dedue in hot pursuit. Later, Alliance reconnaissance told Claude that Dimitri had been accused of regicide for the death of King Rufus, imprisoned, and executed… though rumors spread that no body had ever been found. He clung to those rumors like his life depended on it. 

He refused to believe that Dimitri was dead, just as he refused to believe that Teach had died falling off the cliff during the battle. Perhaps it was false hope. But amidst everything else had had to handle in his life, acknowledging the deaths of those two… was way too hard to even begin to think about.

So when he saw a flash of piercing blue eyes catch sight of him on the battlefield at Gronder, his heart rose and sunk, all at once.

It was Dimitri. Well, it was and it wasn’t; the man ahead of him had longer, unruly blonde hair that fell over an older, sharper, angrier face than Claude had ever seen him wear. It really was as if he’d come back from the dead. Claude couldn’t help but notice the spear he was holding as well; a heroes’ relic. It was stained with blood, everywhere except right along the sharp end of the blade where it had clearly been meticulously sharpened and polished to a shine.

_What happened to you?_

“Dimitri?”

“Get out of my way!” 

Dimitri swept the relic fiercely at him, prompting Claude to take a hesitant step back. He tossed failnaught to the side, and lifted both hands in a show of surrender. 

“Dimitri, it’s me,” he pressed, but that didn’t seem to be the issue; Dimitri’s eyes were on him, sharper than ever, glaring, piercing. A cold realisation washed over Claude. He felt distinctly like… prey. Dimitri began taking slow steps forward, lance at the ready. 

“Hey hey hey- think about this,” Claude protested. “We should fight her together.”

“I don’t have time for your lies,” Dimitri snapped. “Move aside, or I’ll strike you down!”

“Are you even listening?” Claude argued. “There’s no reason for us to fight!” 

He stood his ground as Dimitri approached, and once he was close, Dimitri reached out and grasped the collar of Claude’s shirt. Effortlessly, he lifted him up, and walked them back several steps. Claude clutched Dimitri’s hands and felt his back slam into the trunk of a tree. He felt the air escape his lungs, and he struggled, but it was useless; Dimitri’s grip was like steel, strong, unwavering, and unrelenting. Claude reached his toes down to try to feel the roots of the tree, but he was held too high up to reach.

_Fuck._

“I was not joking,” Dimitri whispered each word slowly, his voice full of vitriol. 

“Neither- was I,” Claude choked out, glaring defiantly back at Dimitri. The lance lifted up, and Dimitri pressed the cold edge of the blade against Claude’s cheek. He could feel it, sharp and soft all at once, pressing into his skin - it sliced sideways, maybe just an inch, and Claude winced as he felt a trickle of blood drip down his cheek. He kept his eyes on Dimitri, who looked as if he was in a trance; but when his blue eyes met Claude’s, something lit in them - like a spark.

“You’re still in there,” Claude realised aloud, and fear flashed through Dimitri’s eyes. But it was brief, and replaced quickly with anger. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” Dimitri snapped, pushing him into the tree and then stepping away. Claude hit the ground awkwardly, nearly tripping over the tree roots as he tried to get his footing. “You’re just another snake!”

“Kill me after if that’s what you really want!” Claude snapped back, his impatience getting the better of him. “Edelgard is the one we should be focused on!”

Dimitri paused, his back still turned. Claude was breathless, praying to whatever god that would listen that he wouldn’t be killed by his old… friend? Crush? Childhood prince rival? Life had only gotten more and more absurd in the last five years. If dying by Dimitri’s spear was what it took to get Edelgard out of the way, he’d take it. There had to be worse ways to go. 

Dimitri looked back over his shoulder at Claude, his grip tightening around his lance.

“Just don’t get in my way.”

He hadn’t planned on it, but he and Dimitri reached Edelgard at the same time. Claude readied his bow while Dimitri went ahead with his lance. The rest of the battles had already been either won, or lost; the fact of the matter was that they couldn’t get everyone out alive, no matter how hard they tried. It was everything he could do to keep everyone in the Golden Deer from harm, but as the war waged on, it was only getting tougher.

Dimitri landed a great blow on Edelgard to the chest, but she retaliated just as brutally, swinging her axe around and under towards him. In an effort to stop it from hitting, Claude fired off an arrow that she only barely dodged; it grazed her hair, forcing her to move backwards, and the edge of the axe simply scraped a thin cut across Dimitri’s armor. WIth a yell, he struck back once more, his spear glowing with crest magic and slamming into Edelgard. She staggered backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

“You are not making my path an easy one,” she snapped, steadying herself. Blood was seeping out from a crack in her armor, and even as she tried to stem it with her free hand, it only began dripping through her fingers instead. Hubert rushed to her side, whispered something in her ear, and with one final look, they both vanished.

Claude looked tentatively sideways at Dimitri, only to see him quickly approaching. Dimitri took hold of his neck and slammed him into the ground. He gasped for air; Dimitri pressed one knee into Claude’s sternum, the other on his right shoulder, locking him in place. The tip of his lance pressed into Claude’s skin just above his heart, tearing a clean hole through his clothes with ease.

“I told you to stay out of my way!”

Dimitri’s voice was hoarse, desperate. Just like earlier, Claude felt that familiar sinking sensation sinking in. Fear. He had told Dimitri he could kill him after if he wanted to; he now wished he hadn't.

“I was- helping you-” he choked, swallowing as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

“She got away, because of you! I could have finished it then and there!” Dimitri yelled, pushing the spear further into his skin. Claude gasped as pain like fire spread through his chest and down his arms. “Why should I believe _you_ , of all people!?”

“I’ve only ever- told you- the truth-” 

It was a struggle just to get the words out. This wasn’t how he wanted to die, but he was beginning to accept that that might become his reality. He had too much unsaid. Too much he wanted to do. Too many people he cared about. It was too early, and too depressing. 

“We were never supposed to be enemies,” Claude breathed, wincing through the pain. “Remember?”

Dimitri blinked. Something in him had changed, somewhere, and Claude could see it. The pressure on his lance eased up a bit, and Claude let out a shaky breath of relief. The way Dimitri’s face had contorted, the anger, the pain, all washed away like the tide going out, leaving a terrified expression in its place. For a second, he looked horrified, and then his head dipped. 

“Claude,” Dimitri whispered, “I needed you.”

A tear dropped from Dimitri’s eyes, and onto Claude’s cheek; it streaked down the side of his face as he stared up at him.

"I needed you, too," he answered quietly, realising it at the same time he spoke. It had been exhausting, fighting alone, despite all of the support. Exhausting trying to deny that the people he needed the most were dead. Dimitri looked back at him in surprise, but before he could say anything, a shadow passed over them and a hand rested on his shoulder. For a second he froze, but then slowly, his lance pulled from Claude’s chest, and he stood up. 

“Teach!” Claude exclaimed in surprise, seeing Byleth’s ever-watchful gaze as she appraised him from behind Dimitri. Her eyes landed briefly on the wound on his chest, and she reached forward with a glowing hand. The pain suddenly numbed, though it was still tight and uncomfortable.

“Sorry, Claude,” she said, as Dimitri got back to his feet. “Thank you.”

“Wait-” Claude stammered, getting shakily to his feet as the two of them began to walk away, “where are you going?”

“Back to the monastery,” Byleth answered simply, turning back to see him as Dimitri kept his back turned. “We’re going to take back Fhirdhiad.”

She didn’t let him get another word in, and to be fair, Claude had no idea what to say. He was speechless. They were going to take back Fhirdhiad, but if that was the case, that meant Dimitri was aiming to take back his rightful spot as King. Was he really cut out for it, the way he was? A mixture of relief and anxiety settled in his stomach. Dimitri was alive. Teach was alive. He knew they had been. His faith in them hadn’t been misplaced.

Back in Derdriu that night, Claude excused himself from dinner early. He entered his old bedroom and spent a moment looking at it. The twin four-poster bed still sat in the middle of the room, covered with an excess of golden yellow throws and velvet decorative pillows. Tapestries of Garreg Mach sat hanging on the walls, above mahogany dressers that he knew were still full of clothes; a mixture of Almyran and Fodlan traditional outfits. A chest full of toys, and still open, sat at the foot of the bed; he looked fondly in at the various wooden swords and makeshift bows. 

He crossed the room to the window, and, as he had done countless times as a child, climbed out and found his way up the side of the palace using worn footholds and ledges. Outstretched before him was a clear sky, speckled with tiny pinpricks of light that reflected in the calm harbor waters below. It was a new moon, and the stars were ever brighter as a result. 

Claude laid back, hands behind his head, and lifted his eyes to the sky. Tonight, the vast expanse above him didn't give him the same insignificant feeling it usually did. It didn't feel soothing and numb, though he had always appreciated that. Tonight, a feeling of overflowing gratitude swelled from his heart. All he could think about was Dimitri's eyes, and the light that still lived inside of them. Inside of him. 

Claude pulled his arms out and rested them over his face, his eyes shut tight. For the first time since he was a child, he sobbed. 

_He’s alive._


	6. Faith

They sent a messenger when Volkhard threatened Derdriu. Hilda thought Claude was insane, sending a letter of help to the monastery. She had seen the way Dimitri pinned him down; seen the wild look in his eyes. But Claude knew he was in there, somewhere.

“You’re gambling our lives on this,” she begged, shortly before the attack. “Claude, you’d better not expect me to die for you!”

“I would never expect that, Hilda,” he answered, staring out at the crashing waves. “Just fly away if it gets bad.”

“You don’t _really_ think my brother would let me live it down if I ran away from a fight, do you?”

“Then die,” Claude sighed, resting his hands on his hips and turning sideways to her. He looked at her with cautious sympathy. They had been through so much together already; there was no way he was going to let her die for him. There was no way he would let her die, period. If Hilda knew that like he hoped she did, then she was either feigning ignorance, or she doubted him.

As he watched her, her shoulders fell, and her shocked expression suddenly turned to understanding.

“You honestly believe he’s going to help us,” she surmised, speaking slowly as if she wasn’t sure of it herself.

“I was right about him being alive,” Claude replied, turning back to the sea to watch the clouds parting for the rising sun. “I know they’ll come.”

The battle was brutal. By the end of it, Claude had lost sight of everyone. Was Hilda alive? Was Judith? He should have retreated long ago, and taken them with him, rather than bet everything on this. But it was near impossible to come to terms with a realisation like that - the realisation that, if they were dead, it was his fault. Now, it was too late. The Empire soldiers had flooded onto the docks, and he could no longer see anything beyond the endless stream of them that ran at him, sacrificing their lives one by one with the knowledge that eventually, he would lose to their numbers.

Claude let Failnaught clatter to the ground as the enemies came closer and closer, opting for his sword instead. He lifted it defensively against a soldier, and then dispatched him, only for another to come running; again he lifted his sword, but the enemy knocked it aside with an axe. Claude backed up, but the ground disappeared beneath him; he looked quickly over his shoulder to see the tile steps leading down towards the end of the dock, where waves crashed relentlessly, one after another. In that moment, he couldn’t help thinking that it was at least a beautiful place to die.

 _I should have run away,_ he thought bitterly. It had always worked before. _I just wanted to see him one last time._

He reached his foot downwards to try to find the step, to stop himself from falling. Even if he was sure he would die here, he wasn’t about to give up without a fight. A hand grasped his right wrist, steadying him even as he dangled back over the precipice of the steps. Claude looked hurriedly back in front of him only to see the axe-wielding soldier dead on the ground; in his place stood Dimitri, holding tight to Claude’s wrist and staring at him confidently, breathlessly, with those same piercing blue eyes Claude was so used to seeing.

He’d come after all. 

Claude’s heart soared. Dimitri grunted as he pulled Claude back up to his feet, and even further still, so he crashed into his body. Claude let out an _oof_ as he felt Dimitri’s arms wrap around him and hold him tight in an aggressive hug. It was short but sweet, and he let go of him a second later, stepping aside to reveal Byleth landing on wyvern-back alongside a tired looking Hilda. She had clearly seen her fair share of battle, and looked a little worse-for-wear, but otherwise okay.

It was surreal, at first; Claude had gambled everything, and come out the victor. Even he admitted to himself that one day, his generous supply of luck would have to run out, and yet... against all odds, today was not that day. A shudder of relief passed through him.

“Dimitri, Teach!” he exclaimed, looking at each of them in turn. 

“I’m glad we made it on time,” Byleth said in greeting, tilting her head at him. “I knew you were a strategist, but I didn’t take you for a gambler, Claude.”

“What gamble?” he quipped back, mustering as confident a grin as he could at the moment. “I knew you’d come.”

From behind her, Hilda leaned back and shot him a dagger-like stare. He laughed a little in return. The adrenaline was kicking in; he was alive, Dimitri was alive. Despite it all, they were all okay, and he had never been so grateful for it. 

“I’m- I’m in your debt,” Claude suddenly realised, looking upon Dimitri. His long hair had been partly tied back, revealing a more open face than before. He wasn’t the terrified beast of a man he’d seen at Gronder, nor was he the polite prince that once lived in Garreg Mach; now he truly looked like a king, not just in appearance, but in the way he held himself. He had gone through hell, and come out complete, somehow. But it wasn’t over yet.

Claude bowed to him, clutching his hand to his heart, where the flesh was scarred.

“Thank you.”

“I expect your full support,” Dimitri said, after a moment of silence. Claude straightened up and looked curiously back at Dimitri, who was watching him expectantly. 

“Are you asking me to yield?” he asked cautiously, and for a moment Dimitri looked serious, but then he broke into a light laugh.

It sounded like heaven.

“I’m asking you to help me take down Edelgard,” Dimitri clarified, looking serious now. “Will you come back to the monastery with us?”

“The monastery?” 

“Of course,” Dimitri replied, as if it was obvious. “It’s no use working together if we have to constantly send messengers back and forth. You’re the best strategist I know. I need you there.”

Those words hung heavy in the air, and the following flashback to Gronder field took Claude’s breath away. It took everything in him to keep his stoic composure. Just hearing those words leave his lips, hearing him say _I need you_ while his eyes were stuck on Claude, was… enrapturing. He couldn’t think of another word for it. They had talked politics before, though never too in-depth; they had differing ideals and values; but Claude, in this moment, felt like there were few things he held more dear to his heart than the current King of Faerghus. 

_If I had known, years ago- no._

He never would have believed it.

“I owe you my life,” Claude said, not wanting to look too eager under the watchful eyes of Byleth and Hilda nearby. “You have the Leicester Alliance’s full support.” 

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe we’re even,” Dimitri corrected him. “You stopped Edelgard from maiming me back in Gronder. You’re not obligated to this, Claude. I want you to help me as a fellow leader… and as a friend.”

Claude was sure he couldn’t hide the look in his eyes, now. He ran a hand through his hair, fighting against the complete exasperation that threatened to take over. Usually it was simple enough to figure out in a split second what the smartest decision was. But now there was _want_ clogging his brain with _need,_ and every time he thought of the word _need_ he heard Dimitri saying it, saw those blue eyes, and suddenly he was that confused kid sitting outside of the ballroom back in Garreg Mach again. He shut his eyes for a second and sighed.

“Well, when you put it that way,” he replied, smiling towards Dimitri. “Just let me sort some things out here with my retainer before I go.”

“Of course,” Dimitri answered, his eyes bright. “Can I count on seeing you at Garreg Mach in a few days time, then?” 

“Yes,” Claude said, his eyes locked on Dimitri’s. “I’ll see you soon."


	7. Devil's in the Details

It was strange, seeing Garreg Mach again. Claude had come alone, leaving Nader in charge of the alliance in Derdriu and putting his faith in the old members of his classroom to keep order in their respective places throughout the territory. That alone felt like more of a gamble than relying on Dimitri and Teach to come and save his life, but he couldn’t help but believe in Dimitri’s chances of defeating Edelgard. He had taken his rightful place as King, and had not only the full support of Faerghus, but also the Alliance. Word had spread fast that Claude was teaming up with him. The people loved it. Having Byleth at the helm of everything was a bonus, too. 

The monastery loomed above him in the setting sun as he made his way back in. He knew it wouldn’t look the same as before, but it was still surprising seeing the sheer amount of damage it had taken. Entire walls were gone, entire rooms, entire sections blown away. But the rebuilding was well underway. They were bringing it back, slowly but surely. 

By the time Claude dropped his bags in his old room - a little dusty, but still familiar - the sun had set. A deep turquoise sky faded slowly on the horizon as Claude stepped out to meet Dimitri, where he was waiting on the Star Terrace. His hair disappeared into tufts of fur from a wolf fur cloak that decorated his royal blue cape, and Claude recognized the jet-black armor as he turned, covered in scratches and scrapes. 

Claude stopped a few feet away as Dimitri moved to face him. For a few moments, they surveyed each other. Claude was surprised that, in just five years, Dimitri had changed  _ that _ much - his hair was still a shining white-blonde, his eyes were still bright and blue, but now he looked… like a man. He had grown taller, and still he beat Claude in height, though only by a few inches. Then again, Claude supposed,  _ he _ had changed too, compared to the kid he used to be.

“We’ve both come a long way,” Dimitri said, as if he knew they were both thinking the same thing. “It’s good to see you again, Claude. I’m sorry our initial reunion was… less than friendly.”

“Hey now, at least you didn’t kill me,” Claude joked, taking a few steps forward and lifting a hand to rest on Dimitri’s shoulder. He tilted his head, smiling. “That’s a pretty good step in our re-found friendship, I’d say.” 

“It was close, though,” Dimitri replied, his eyes dropping to Claude’s left shoulder. “I am sorry.” 

Claude pulled his hand off of Dimitri’s shoulder, but his wrist was caught by Dimitri’s hand, still gloved in the armor. He pulled Claude inward, though it was an awkward movement. Claude tripped forward a step, stopped by Dimitri’s other hand clutching his shoulder, and he looked up at him in surprise. Dimitri was looking at him the same way he had looked at him the night of the ball, but there was a hesitation in his breath, caught in his throat. 

Claude lifted his left hand, brushing away a few strands of blonde hair from Dimitri’s face. He couldn’t help but be enamored by the red stain he saw quickly spreading on Dimitri’s cheeks, and cocked his head sideways as he kept his hand on the side of Dimitri’s face.

“Blushing?” Claude asked, unable to help it. Dimitri let out a frustrated breath, and flicked his eyes up to meet Claude’s.

“You... you’re a handsome devil now, Claude. What do you expect from me?”   


They were so close now, he could feel Dimitri’s breath brushing across his lips; could feel his thumb sweeping across the top of his right hand; could feel his other hand gripping his left arm. All of it was so much more intimate than he ever would have expected. He didn’t know how to conduct himself in the midst of it, and it seemed like neither did Dimitri. Conversation had always been his strong suit; why did it seem like all of his talents went out the window when Dimitri was there?

At least he knew one thing he could still do well. 

Claude slowly pushed his hand up through Dimitri’s hair, and leaned forward, slowly, in order to give Dimitri an out if he wanted to step back. But Dimitri stayed put, even leaned forward a tiny bit, until their lips were just brushing together, hesitant, careful, unsure. Claude waited, savoring it, and then firmly pressed his lips against Dimitri’s, his eyes falling shut. 

Dimitri seemed surprised, but pushed back against Claude’s lips with a surprising passion that lit a spark in Claude’s heart. It almost hurt, how much he had waited for this, how much he had wanted this, for over five years. But that pain, that heartbreak, was replaced with absolute bliss knowing that Dimitri, who had once almost killed him, had wanted it too. 

_ Finally. _

When they pulled away, they stayed close, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. Claude’s chest was heaving. He hadn’t realised how hard his heart was pounding until that very moment. A slight smile curved on Dimitri’s lips, just a little bit, and Claude let out a breath of laughter.

“Strategy, huh.” 

“Yes, admittedly, my desire to have you here…. was indeed somewhat selfish,” Dimitri said, sounding apologetic. “I hope you aren’t leaving too much behind in Derdriu.”

“Nothing my retainer can’t handle,” Claude answered, finally pulling his forehead away from Dimitri’s as they stood up straighter. Claude dropped his hand from the back of Dimitri’s head, instead clasping it around Dimitri’s forearm. “Trust me, my agreeing to come here was somewhat selfish, too.” 

Dimtri watched him intently, and was quiet for a moment. 

“I hope this isn’t asking too much,” Dimitri finally said, after a long pause, “but I’d like you to stay with me.” 

“Stay… with you?” Claude replied, looking curiously back at Dimitri. He was inclined to agree, but he didn’t know what the implications were. Stay close? Stay with him after the war? Stay the night? Perhaps Dimitri saw the apprehensiveness in his eyes, because he clarified:

“I want you to stay with me for as long as you’d allow it.” 

Claude took a hesitant step backwards. What Dimitri left out in his words, his eyes made up for. He could see what he wanted, but Claude, at this point, didn’t know if it was more than he was willing to give.

“Dimitri… I have things I have to see to fruition,” he admitted, “things I want to do. I would never get in your way, but-”

“Please, just think on it,” Dimitri interrupted him, already looking disappointed. “And please believe me when I say that I would work to help you with your dreams, whatever they may be.” 

Dimitri brushed past him then, though not aggressively, leaving Claude alone on the star terrace to listen to the sound of his footsteps disappearing back into the monastery. Moonlight crested from the top of a cloud, and Claude looked up at it as his mind raced. Dimitri didn’t even know he was half Almyran. He didn’t know his story, didn’t know his dreams, didn’t know, perhaps, how radical they might seem. But those words… to stay with him for as long as he’d allow it… 

Claude walked to the edge of the terrace and leaned against the wall, hands clasped together as he stared out at the torchlights scattered throughout the village surrounding the monastery. His priorities, which had always been set in stone, were muddled. He had never struggled with that before, never struggled with making decisions. 

Now that he thought of it, he realised this wasn’t a hard decision, either. Some part of him, deep down, was in love with Dimitri; but he’d made a promise to himself long ago to never lose sight of what his dream was.

Whether or not Dimitri was part of that dream was yet to be seen.


	8. The Agreement

In the midst of preparations for taking down the Empire, Claude found himself busier than he’d expected. Despite Dimitri’s mentioning that his reasoning was slightly selfish, the kingdom was finding lots of ways to put Claude to work. Nevermind that he was busy rallying support from back home through Nader, as well. Public opinion on Claude’s being at the monastery was mixed - some were happy he was working alongside the King, and others were upset that he wasn’t in his own land to oversee everything. There was never a way to please everyone, but Claude had an unfortunate habit of trying anyways. 

Late on the eve before the battle in the Empire, Claude headed back to his room for another sleepless night. He’d been putting off talking to Dimitri, even though it was driving him crazy; and the feeling seemed to be mutual, since Dimitri was becoming more and more impatient each time he saw him. As soon as he pushed the door open to his room, he was surprised to see that it hadn’t been closed all the way. Cautiously, he took a few steps in, squinting through the darkness and cursing that he hadn’t left the lantern burning before he went for dinner.

There was definitely a shape on the bed. Claude froze, trying to make out the shape in such dim light; but then, he could make out a royal blue cape draped over the back of it. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Claude exclaimed, letting his guard down as he crossed the room to light the lantern. “What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

When the flame lit, and as Claude turned to look back at Dimitri, he was surprised to see the man sitting on the bed, completely passed out.

His head was dipped between his knees, his arms resting over his knees, and heavy, quiet breaths lifted his shoulders up and down. He must have come much earlier, and then fallen asleep waiting. Claude leaned over slightly, peering through strands of blonde hair to double check that Dimitri’s eyes were closed. They were. 

_Shit._

“What am I going to do with you,” he muttered, putting the lantern down on his desk and slumping into the chair. He held his head in his hands for a little while, deep in thought, knowing he wouldn’t be able to escape the conversation once Dimitri woke up. And he wouldn’t be able to get to bed without waking him up, so he took the time now to sort out his thoughts; or at least, figure out how to phrase them in a way that would make sense.

Every time he even thought about telling Dimitri everything, panic settled in his heart. It was childish. That scared kid he was growing up was still inside of him. He knew that he could put his lineage to good use; he was planning on it; but it had taken a lot of strife before getting to that point, a lot of questioning, a lot of doubt, and a lot of pain. Claude had never stopped fighting it, not once he joined the monastery, not once he led the Leicester alliance. It just became a little easier, all the time. But still, it exhausted him more than any actual battle he’d ever been in.

All he’d ever been able to do to fight it was to smile. 

“Claude,” Dimitri mumbled, letting out a groan as he slowly lifted his head. “What took you so long?”

Claude lifted his head out from his hands, sweeping some of his hair back and looking at Dimitri to see him awake. He sounded irritated, but perhaps he was just tired. 

“Sorry I didn’t get back to my own room in time for you, your highness,” Claude said sarcastically, fielding the dagger sharp look that Dimitri gave him.

“Don’t call me that,” Dimitri growled. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“I know,” Claude sighed, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. “I’m sorry.” 

It was the truth - he was sorry. Perhaps Dimitri could tell, because his expression softened, and he lifted his head up to look at Claude expectantly. 

“Why?” 

Claude paused, frowning slightly as he looked back at Dimitri. He looked hurt. 

“I don’t know what I want,” Claude finally said, but then shook his head. “No, I do know what I want. I just don’t know how to get it.”

“Try me,” Dimitri said simply. He leaned back against the wall, stretching out his legs and folding his arms. Claude stared at him for a moment, giving himself a moment to wonder if opening up completely to Dimitri was really a good idea, even before they had taken the Empire, even before he knew for sure that the kingdom wouldn’t try to steal land and territory from the Alliance when all was said and done. A unified nation sounded better; how could he do that without yielding everything to Dimitri?

“I don’t know if I want to,” Claude admitted, dipping his head into his hands and running his fingers through his hair. “It’s a lot.” 

“I have time.” 

Claude opened his eyes and peered cautiously at Dimitri through his fingers. Time. Claude hadn’t had time before, to be as open as he’d wanted to be - and he’d lost so much in the process. He didn’t make a habit of regretting things, but he didn’t want to regret admitting everything to Dimitri either... A man who, for so long, looked like the enemy. Looked like the kids that bullied him growing up, threatened his life, questioned his heritage. 

And yet, Dimitri himself had never done that.

“I’m half Almyran,” Claude blurted out, slapping his hands to his knees as he sat up straighter. It was better to just not give himself any more time to think of it. Dimitri blinked, but didn’t move a muscle otherwise, waiting for Claude to continue. “My father is Almyran royalty. If I go back, I have a chance to become King there. I want to unify Fodlan and Almyra. I don’t want - I don’t want anyone growing up with what I had to deal with."

He felt a mess. His ideals made sense in his head; putting them into words was another thing entirely. But Dimitri’s eyes, as he listened intently, were bright with intrigue. 

“You want… to unify them? Not to bring Almyra under Fodlan’s rule?” 

_Goddess,_ Claude thought to himself desperately, _please let him understand._

“No,” Claude said, shaking his head. “I mean free movement of people. No discrimination, no more of this “us and them” mentality, no more needless battling.” 

“Almyra is always attacking Fodlan’s Locket,” Dimitri replied thoughtfully, lifting a hand to his chin. “I assume you would put a stop to that?” 

“It’s just a symptom of the current system,” Claude explained, rubbing his forehead. “It would stop.” 

“Normally I would have my doubts,” Dimitri admitted after a pause, “but since it’s you, Claude, I believe you could do it.”

_Wait-_

“I take it this means you would have to go back to Almyra?” 

_...really?_

“Yeah,” Claude replied, leaning forward on the chair. “I wouldn’t stay long. I’d come back as soon as I was done what I have to do.” 

“But you _would_ come back,” Dimitri repeated, slowly. 

It took Claude a second to realise that Dimitri was waiting for an answer. Amidst everything he had just said, _that_ was the main concern? That he had to leave... and that Dimitri wanted to make sure he would return? It would probably take months, if not closer to a year, to get everything in order in Almyra… but if that was the biggest hurdle, out of everything else - if that was all Dimitri was worried about - Claude felt like he could cry. 

“I would come back,” Claude answered, nodding once, his heart heavy in his chest.

“That’s agreeable, then,” Dimitri finally conceded, unfolding his arms and meeting Claude’s eyes evenly. “I always thought I’d have a Queen by my side, Claude... but I had grown hopeful lately to have a King instead.”


	9. Fighting Dirty

Disbelief seemed too small of a word to describe the cocktail of emotions that raced through Claude’s mind. 

_By my side,_ he said. 

Along with everything else, Claude realised very quickly that Dimitri wasn’t a subtle flirt. Mostly he was grateful for it, except that it put him in these situations where his cheeks stained red before he could help it. 

“Blushing?” Dimitri asked, resting his head sideways on his own shoulder. A faint grin spread on his lips, and seeing so took Claude’s breath away.

“What do you expect from me?” Claude replied with a light laugh, mimicking Dimitri’s own words from the other night. He rested the side of his face in his hand, looking upwards at him. But it wasn’t just a joke; Claude found himself very quickly enraptured with Dimitri’s long hair, his piercing blue eyes, his shoulders, his jaw; everything. It was more than just realising that he was handsome. It was realising he _wanted_ him. And perhaps, despite all of his best efforts, his eyes had given it away. 

Dimitri stood from the bed, leaning over Claude in the chair instead, resting his hands on the armrests. His eyes, though stuck on Claude’s at first, looked over his body a moment later - and then back. 

“Your outfit looks like it’s a nuisance to take off.”

“Yours doesn’t,” Claude replied with a weak smile, fighting to keep his composure. For a second Dimitri was quiet, and then he laughed, and Claude savored the sound of it. He’d only heard it a couple times now, but he wanted to hear it countless more. Their eyes met again, and Claude was sure now that Dimitri was reading his heart like an open book. It was some small comfort, however, seeing that same wanting in Dimitri’s eyes as well. 

Neither said anything, but something had clicked. They both moved at once, but Claude was faster; he hooked an ankle behind Dimitri’s knee, and as he stepped backwards to steady himself, he tripped back onto the bed. Claude was up and followed in an instant, landing on top of Dimitri in the bed, his hands planted in the sheets as he looked down at him. He hoped his expression didn’t betray him; he wasn’t expecting to come out so successful. Dimitri, who looked surprised at first, smirked. 

“That’s fighting dirty,” he said, in mock disapproval. Claude tilted his head at him from above, a smile curving on his lips. 

“I can do more than just _fight_ dirty,” Claude assured him, resting one of his knees between Dimitri’s legs and savoring the look in his eyes. 

“I can play dirty,” he continued, and he leaned over Dimitri and tilted his head to plant a kiss on his neck. “I can _talk_ dirty…”

“Fuck,” Dimitri exclaimed, lifting a hand and pushing his fingers through Claude’s hair. His arms nearly gave out at the feeling of it. 

“Ah, ah-” Claude interrupted him, kissing the underside of his jaw, “not yet.”

Dimitri blinked. It must have taken a second for Claude’s words to register, but then a wave of red crashed against Dimitri’s cheeks.

“ _Claude!”_

His voice was almost a growl, and Claude let out a laugh as Dimitri pushed back against him, sitting up and pulling his head forward in an aggressive kiss. 

“Mm-”

It wasn’t like the first two. Dimitri’s mouth was open, and so was Claude’s, and as their tongues just barely brushed against each other, a fire lit in Claude’s entire body. Heat coursed through him as Dimitri pushed relentlessly forward and cupped his jaw in his hands and pushed his tongue through his lips-

For all that Claude had tried in getting the advantage over Dimitri, it was failing quickly. He could feel himself sinking into the sensation of being in his hands. He couldn’t help it. And Dimitri was revelling in it, soaking it all in, dipping down to kiss and bite at Claude’s jaw and his neck and his collarbone while his hands began unfastening all of the meticulous parts of Claude’s outfit. It was overwhelming, in all the best ways.

Clumsily, Claude tried to return the favor, pulling off Dimitri’s fur-lined cloak and throwing it unceremoniously onto the chair across the room. As for the rest of Dimitri’s armor, Claude had no clue what to do with it - _so much for it being easy to take off_ \- so he settled with assisting Dimitri in taking off all of his own bits and pieces first. Before long, his sash, his shirt, his cloak, and his shoulder guard all littered the floor, and Claude was left in just his loose-fitting white undershirt and pants.

“Get your boots off,” Dimitri said, finally pulling from the kiss. He stood up and began dismantling his jet-black armor.. There were a shocking number of pieces to it, fastened together with leather and clasps. Claude almost forgot to take off his boots as he watched, but quickly kicked them off as Dimitri pulled off his undershirt. His upper body was covered in scars and scrapes, a mixture of new and old ones, a testament to all that he had gone through. 

Claude couldn’t help his eyes from wandering downward, but he didn’t have long to admire before Dimitri returned to the bed and pushed him down by his shoulders. He kissed him again, and Claude felt himself sinking into the sheets as Dimitri’s hands slid down his shirt, pressing against his chest through the fabric, and then began to pull at his waistband. 

“Ah-” 

Claude gasped as Dimitri pulled his pants down, and he felt his cock spring free into the cool air of the room. Dimitri’s hand clasped around it, warm and firm, and Claude’s breath hitched. It hadn’t been _that_ long - he had had partners between Garreg Mach and now, but nothing serious, nothing lasting, and no one’s touch felt quite like fire like Dimitri’s did now. 

It was a brief grasp, and then Dimitri’s hand left again. He turned slightly, fumbling around under the bed, and it only took Claude a second to realise for what.

“Up- up, to the right,” Claude offered, and Dimitri shifted, finally pulling out a bottle of oil. “Yeah.”

Dimitri studied the label for just a second, as if to make sure it would be satisfactory, and then dropped it on the bed before turning back to Claude. He took hold of Claude’s hips, and in one quick movement, flipped him over onto his knees. Claude’s cheek hit the blankets at first, but then one of Dimitri’s hands slipped into his hair from behind and pulled his head back. A few strands of awry hair fell in front of Claude’s face as his back arched. He clenched his teeth, inhaling sharply as he felt Dimitri’s cock pressing hard against the back of his thigh. 

Dimitri’s body bent over his, his hair tickling Claude’s shoulders as he leaned forward and pulled Claude’s head back slightly to meet him.

“Claude,” he said, and that alone sent shivers down Claude’s back, “tell me you want it.” 

“Fuck, Dimitri-”

“Say it,” Dimitri interrupted him, more forceful now. Claude’s arms trembled as he held himself up on the bed, and he let out an impatient grunt. He hadn’t been with _that_ many people in his lifetime, but in all of them, he was used to being the one on top. Finding himself caught under Dimitri’s grasp, and enjoying it this much- _needing_ it this badly- was new to him.

“I want you,” he finally relented, and felt Dimitri let go of his head. He heard the cork on the oil bottle pop off, and felt Dimitri’s finger slip between his cheeks, slicked with oil, covering him. A second later, Dimitri’s cock pressed against him and pushed in, slowly, carefully. Claude thought briefly to himself that Dimitri must have been with others as well during their five years apart, but the thought quickly dissipated as the sensation of Dimitri’s cock filling him took precedence.

“Breathe,” Dimitri reminded him, and Claude let out a breath he forgot he’d been holding. His legs shuddered as Dimitri pulled out a little, then pushed in again, slowly but surely finding space for himself and establishing a rhythm amidst a healthy amount of oil. Claude fell to his elbows; then down completely, clutching the pillow to his face. He was in absolute ecstasy, listening to Dimitri’s heavy breathing and grunts, feeling him push in over and over, feeling his fingers digging into his hips and pulling him back carefully with each movement. Resting on the bed on his shoulder, Claude reached down to grasp himself, desperate for relief. It was clumsy, messy, and any other day would not have been enough to satisfy him. But at the moment, the sensation of his cock pushing inadvertently forward with each thrust of Dimitri’s own movements was mind numbing. 

“God- fucking-”

Claude’s mouth dropped open. He barely had the strength to keep his own hand loosely curled around his cock each time Dimitri pushed forward. Dimitri’s movements were becoming more and more erratic and hard, and Claude felt himself resign completely to Dimitri’s whims as he pushed and pulled. He let out a breathy groan, half in surprise, as he felt the onset of his climax, and shamelessly he spilled out into the sheets.

Dimitri’s grip tightened, and Claude gasped at the pain of his fingers digging into his hips and at the feeling of his cock pushing in further. Dimitri pushed harder, faster, finishing within him with a gasp and a few final thrusts. Claude could feel his body shuddering.

Everything was suddenly quiet. It was all Claude could do to tilt his head in the sheets so that he could breathe again. Dimitri’s breathing was slowly calming, his cock still twitching and throbbing from the orgasm. His grip on Claude’s hips softened, and he pulled out carefully and slowly, leaving Claude to groan and drop onto the bed. 

Claude let out a pained breath, rolling himself over carefully and looking up at Dimitri, who had stolen a rag from the end of the bed and was wiping himself off. He pulled his trousers back up a moment later, and when he turned, his eyes flicked down to Claude’s chest, and he froze; Claude looked down curiously to see that his shirt collar had been pushed a ways aside, and the tangled scars on his left chest and shoulder were now visible. Dimitri looked horrified, and suddenly took a short step back. 

“That’s- what I did to you-”

“It’s in the past,” Claude said quickly, sitting up on the bed on his elbows and pulling his shirt back over the wound. “I’m fine.”

Dimitri still looked terrified. _Why now, of all times?_ Claude sighed, pulled himself to the edge of the bed, and reached a hand out towards Dimitri. 

“Come here,” he said, and waited. Dimitri still looked like he was in shock, but hesitantly took Claude’s hand, and Claude dragged him back towards the bed. Reluctantly, he followed, and Claude shuffled back - covering his mess on the bed with a sheet - and pulled Dimitri on top of the blankets with him. 

He laid down wordlessly. Claude slipped his left arm under the pillow, and pulled Dimitri’s head close to his chest, his right hand resting on top of his head. Idly, he stroked Dimitri’s hair, staring at the wall on the other side of the room as he tried to keep him calm. For what seemed like the longest time, it was silent, and after a while Claude wondered if Dimitri had simply fallen asleep. He almost fell asleep himself, but Dimitri’s voice suddenly brought him back to reality.

“It’s just that… I’ve made so many mistakes,” Dimitri whispered, his voice sad and broken. He had clearly been deep in thought. “I hurt you. I’ve hurt others, in ways that I can’t take back. If we defeat her tomorrow… how am I supposed to lead this country?”

Claude paused, but then moved his fingers back into Dimitri’s hair. 

“You care about people, Dimitri. You can make up for your mistakes.”

“If I really cared, I wouldn’t have-"

“Stop,” Claude interrupted him, sighing and pulling back a bit to meet his eyes. “You aren’t your circumstances. You can rise above it, even if you’ve lost to them in the past. I know it’s hard to keep moving, but it’s the only right choice.”

Dimitri studied his eyes, the same way many had throughout his life, as if searching to see if it was the truth.

“You sound more like a King than me,” Dimitri admitted, seemingly satisfied with Claude's honesty. He rested his head back down in Claude’s shoulder. “Maybe it should be you.”

“You want to trade, and go to Almyra?” Claude asked, then laughed. “I can try and dress you up to look the part, but I think they’ll still notice.”

“I think you’re right,” Dimitri replied. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I wish you didn’t have to go.” 

“I know,” Claude replied, shifting slightly to look up at the ceiling as he kept Dimitri close. “Let’s worry about tomorrow, first.”


	10. Bittersweet End, Bittersweet Beginnings

Claude could tell that Dimitri was trying to keep his composure as they began their assault on the Empire capital, but as they got closer and closer to Edelgard, his eyes became more and more pained. After they had gotten into the main room, Byleth shot Claude a warning look, as if he hadn’t already noticed. 

_ I know, _ he thought to himself. He had already been keeping a steady eye on Dimitri’s back throughout the battles. Not that he needed it; the man was a fearsome fighter. But Claude couldn’t help it, and he appreciated the cautious glance-backs that Dimitri cast him from time to time, too. There was plenty to worry about; between the lightning that Edelgard routinely had coming in through the ceiling, the mages that were at their rear, and the behemoth monsters all around, he had his hands full. 

Though the battle was brutal, they were successful in the end, though perhaps just barely. Edelgard, kneeling on the floor and just barely human again, lifted her head to look back at Dimitri. He stood above her, staring at her with an emotion that Claude couldn’t quite place. 

In the silence, he reached his hand out to her. 

Both Claude and Byleth made a quick step forward when Edelgard reached into her cloak, but she was too fast nonetheless; Dimitri turned, his spear pushed forward, and a dagger flew into the chest of Dimitri’s armor. He grunted, pulling the lance out of Edelgard, and her limp body hit the floor with a finality that felt heavy in the room with everyone watching. 

He tore the dagger out of his armor as well, and tossed it onto the floor in front of Edelgard, then turned and began walking out of the room, bringing Claude with him. 

After all of that work, all of the turmoil and strife, they had come out the victors. But it didn’t feel like anything worth celebrating. If anything, it felt like they suddenly had so much more work on their plates. And Claude knew, and Dimitri knew, that this meant it was time for Claude to leave… or at least it would be, sooner than later. All Claude wanted was to stay with him, but he knew if he left his work in Almyra unfinished, he’d never sleep at night. He had people there depending on him. He had the future he wanted to see depending on him.

Cheers greeted them when they left the doors of the throne room, as if all of Enbarr had been watching; but Claude supposed that when he and Dimitri left the room, it meant they had won. He wondered bitterly to himself if they would have been cheering all the same had Edelgard stepped out instead. 

_ I’m better off not knowing.  _

  
  


When Claude was on his way to bed that night, Dimitri stole him away, bringing him instead up to his room. It was immaculately clean, almost to a suspicious level, but Claude didn’t say anything as Dimitri dragged him in, shut the door, and then pushed him up against the wall in a passionate kiss.

“Wait wait wait-” Claude tried to say, his voice muffled against Dimitri’s lips as he felt his hands begin to undo his waistband. Dimitri pulled back, staring at Claude expectantly as he slowly pulled out the drawstring from underneath his shirt. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, searching for any sign of pain in Dimitri’s eyes, but to his surprise, he found nothing. 

“Never better,” Dimitri replied simply, now moving to Claude’s sash. His eyes lifted up to the ceiling as he felt himself beginning to grow hard with anticipation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, but was now really a good time?

“I mean- are you sure- shouldn’t we maybe talk about-”

“About what?” Dimitri asked impatiently, perhaps with a little more bitterness than he meant to. He pulled the sash off of Claude and tossed it to the ground, and then reached up to his shoulder guard, leaning in to plant kisses on Claude’s jawline as he did so.

“Fuck,” Claude breathed, hands tensing against the wall behind him. “I mean about today, about tomorrow-”

“Just shut up,” Dimitri whispered, soft and strangely endearing as the bite in his voice faded away. “I don’t want to think about it right now.” 

He threw Claude’s shoulder guard onto the bed, and then lifted the rest of Claude’s shirt up and off in one swift motion, leaving Claude standing mostly naked against the wall, his pants around his ankles, boots still on - and then Dimitri knelt, taking Claude’s now hard cock into his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck-” Claude breathed out, feeling his knees go weak as Dimitri wrapped his lips around the head, pulled his foreskin back, and moved his hand slowly, horribly slowly, up and down the shaft. Claude slumped back more against the wall, his shoulders falling as an aggressive heat settled on his cheeks. Dimitri pushed forward, taking all of him in his mouth and sucking hard as he began to move back and forth. Claude’s head fell back against the wood, and he lifted a hand quickly to muffle the groan that escaped him as pleasure washed down his legs and through his heart. 

“Aah-”

He looked back down at Dimitri, who had pulled back further now and was staring up at him with those mesmerizing blue eyes with just the tip sitting heavy in his lips. Claude could have melted at the sight of it, but he kept himself together as best he could, trying to savor every second. Dimitri pulled his mouth off but kept his hand moving, up and down with a horribly, yet pleasantly strong grip, and a smirk curved on his lips as he saw Claude watching him wantingly.

“Don’t think you’re the one in control here,” he said, almost as if it was a warning. Claude’s mouth dropped open as Dimitri took him in again, his eyes falling shut as he pushed roughly up and down Claude’s cock. 

Claude’s eyes rolled back and shut as his head fell back again at the sensation. That’s right; he wasn’t in control at all. Not when he was with Dimitri, not in moments like these. In every other part of his life he had absolute autonomy, and worked to make sure that things would go the way he wanted them to, but here and now, he had none of that. Just a faint hope that his terrifying, handsome king boyfriend wouldn’t bite his cock off. 

One of Dimitri’s fingers pushing into his ass brought him back to reality, and his eyes flew open. He lifted both hands up to his mouth as a moan of pleasure escaped him. The rhythm was intoxicating, and he felt dizzy as Dimitri moved faster and harder, his finger pushing in and out. Claude’s cock throbbed in anticipation before finally spilling inside Dimitri’s mouth, and Claude reached a hand down without barely thinking about it, grasping Dimitri’s hair as he swallowed hard.

His foot slipped forward, but he caught himself, slowly letting go of Dimitri’s hair and letting his hands fall weakly down to his sides. Dimitri stood after a moment, wiping his chin as he leveled his gaze with Claude. 

“Turn around.” 

Claude barely registered the words, but Dimitri did it for him, holding his shoulders and moving him so he was facing the wall instead. 

“Stay there.”

Claude let out a frustrated, impatient breath, and heard Dimitri laugh to himself as he began undressing.

“For someone not used to being on the bottom, you’re very good at it,” he said, and Claude rolled his eyes to himself as his hands turned to fists against the wooden wall. 

“That easy to tell, huh?”

“For me, it is,” Dimitri answered. The familiar  _ pop! _ of the oil bottle made Claude shiver a bit with anticipation, and a moment later he felt Dimitri’s body pressing against his from behind, warm, naked, his oil-slicked cock pressing up in between his cheeks. He kissed Claude’s neck as he slowly pushed in, and Claude’s breath caught in the back of his throat as he felt that familiar heat fill him. His eyes fluttered shut, and though he was tense at first, he slowly felt himself relaxing as Dimitri moved slowly, gently, in and out, in and out.

It wasn’t like the first time. It was slower, softer, and intensely intimate. Claude could feel Dimitri’s hands move slowly down his back, his thumbs sweeping over the nuances of his shoulder blades and muscles, before finally coming to a rest on his waist. The angle moved up for a moment, and Claude shifted to meet it, his head falling back into Dimitri’s shoulder. His mouth fell open as he allowed himself to breathe more freely, heat settling onto his cheeks as he sank into the motions. He tried to lift a hand to reach back for Dimitri, but the angle was awkward; Dimitri seemed to notice, and his hands left Claude’s hips, pulling his wrists behind his back instead and holding them there just so, so he knew he could pull them free if he wanted.

The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing and skin meeting skin. Claude could see stars behind his eyelids, and a deep night sky blue colour swirled awash in his mind’s eye as Dimitri took him for all that he was. 

It was a mostly clear morning, the day of the coronation. Claude had gotten up before sunrise to begin packing, though it was a slow process finding all of his things in the darkness and unfamiliarity of Dimitri’s room. By the time he went out to the star terrace to meet his wyvern, the sky was a pale lilac. A cool morning breeze pushed through his hair, slowly but surely breaking him free from the trance he felt he’d been in for weeks on end.

The fantasy was over. Now, it was time to go back home for the first time in years. He had no idea who or what would be waiting for him there; all he knew was that Dimitri would be somewhere at the finish line.

“Don’t tell me you were going to leave without saying goodbye.”

Dimitri’s voice cut through the cool morning air from behind him. Claude, one hand resting on the neck of his wyvern, turned to look over his shoulder, and saw Dimitri standing in the doorway at the end of the terrace.

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he replied honestly. “You looked so peaceful.” 

Dimitri walked towards him, and as he got closer, Claude’s hand dropped from his wyvern and he went to meet him halfway. They stopped a few feet away from each other, eyes meeting in sad acknowledgment. After a moment, Dimitri closed the distance between them, and wrapped Claude up in a hug - literally - with his cloak completely around him.

Claude smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms back around Dimitri in turn, his face tickled by the fur lining on the cloak. He could have sank into the warmth and fallen asleep then and there. 

“I will miss you,” Dimitri said, his voice quiet in Claude’s ear. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Claude replied, squeezing Dimitri a little tighter. “I’m sorry to make you wait.”

“Not long, I hope,” Dimitri said, pulling away from the hug and resting his weight on one leg. Claude smiled weakly back at him. 

“Dimitri… please don’t tell anyone where I am.”

“And if they ask?” Dimitri pressed. 

“Tell them I went home,” Claude said, “and that I won’t be long.” 

After a long kiss that Claude never wanted to end, he hopped atop his wyvern. Dimitri waited at the edge of the star terrace, and even as Claude took off, he kept his eyes on him, and watched until he couldn’t see him anymore. Claude was heartbroken, admittedly; but as the sun lifted from the horizon and bathed the day in a warm golden light, he couldn’t help feeling optimistic. Every step so far where he thought he would fail, he had succeeded. 

He could do this, too. 


	11. The Two Kings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading guys, I truly appreciate all the love and support. ❤

It took Claude five months.

It felt like forever. 

With the help of Nader and Holst, an agreement had been made to open the borders between Almyra and Fodlan. The King of the latter, a certain Dimitri Blaiddyd, enlisted the help of former alliance leaders in negotiations. In the end, and after a lot of back-and-forth, it was finally done. 

Instead of returning to Fodlan to see Dimitri, Claude sent his wyvern to pick him up. 

On the edge of rolling yellow plains that went as far as the eye could see, underneath an endless blue sky, he waited. The sound of his mother playing her fiddle wafted over the wind, playing a dreamland-like tune that Claude nearly fell asleep to as he laid on the ground. He hadn't told them he was coming, preferring it to be a surprise instead, but the anticipation had him feeling strangely exhausted.

The faraway cry of his stark white wyvern caused Claude’s eyes to fly open. He got to his feet immediately, misstepped slightly from the ensuing dizzy spell, and staggered into the tall, flowing grass, towards where he had heard the cry. Another rang out, and Claude broke into a run. Half a minute later, and he could see the silhouette of his wyvern against the sun, soaring down towards him. 

He held up his arm to shield his face from the wind as the dragon landed, carefully, in the middle of the field. The grass blew out to all sides as its wings flapped hard to help slow its descent, talons coming out and digging into the earth as it came to a stop. The flash of a blue cape from the back of the wyvern caught Claude’s eyes, and slowly he lowered his arm as he saw Dimitri sit up and look at him from the back of the dragon.

Dimitri slid off the back of the wyvern, but clearly underestimated how high off the ground he was. He landed hard, and when he stood, Claude was pleasantly surprised to not see him wearing his usual armor. He was in black, as usual, and though he still had his blue cape, he had left the fur lining behind in preparation for milder weather.

Claude nodded once to his wyvern, and the serpent took off once more, wings blowing the grass around them and pushing Claude’s hair awry. He swept it back half-heartedly, and watched with bated breath as Dimitri slowly closed the distance between them. There was no need for words, not at first, as Dimitri reached for Claude, and Claude for Dimitri in turn. When they met, their arms wrapped around each other tight, bodies pressed together desperately. 

For all the times that Claude had sunk into Dimitri’s hold, for all the times he had thought about wanting to sink away and feel safe and happy and protected, like nothing else in the world mattered, it was finally here. They’d reached the finish line. Not that there wasn’t work to be done… but at least they would be together.

“Claude,” Dimitri said, his voice heavy with relief as his hands gripped Claude’s shoulders tight to him. Claude opened his eyes just a little, looking over Dimitri’s shoulders at the heavy clouds that sat on the horizon, stark white in contrast with the endless Almyran sky he knew so well. 

“Where have you brought me?” 

_Ah- right._

They pulled away, and Dimitri looked at Claude with a curious smile. 

“My home,” Claude replied simply, spreading his arms out. Dimitri looked around himself at all of the flowing grass, and rested his hands on his hips, looking expectantly back at him.

“More specifically, my parents home away from home,” Claude clarified with a smile, and he reached for Dimitri’s hand. “Come on. You’ll see.” 

He led him through the long yellow grasses, and as they went, Claude could see a thin plume of smoke rising up from where he knew the cottage was. 

“Claude,” Dimitri said again, before they reached the edge of the field. He paused, feeling Dimitri pull slightly back on his hand, and turned to face him. “Are your… parents there?” 

“Yeah,” Claude replied, as if it was an admittance. “I wanted you to meet them.” 

“I- am more than happy to,” Dimitri responded eagerly, eyes bright, and just as blue as the sky above them. “But… what will you introduce me as?”

“I thought about that,” Claude answered honestly, lifting his eyes to the clouds thoughtfully. When it came to him, he looked back at Dimitri with a smile. “How about fiance?” 

“Fi...ance…” Dimitri breathed, his shoulders falling as he stared back at Claude. “You want to... really?” 

“I thought that was the plan all along, if I’m being honest,” Claude said truthfully, his expression dropping as he tried to read Dimitri’s emotions. “But if you don’t want to, that’s-” 

Dimitri interrupted him by dragging him forward for a sudden kiss. Claude could feel him smiling against his lips, and he lifted a hand to cup the side of Dimitri’s jaw, having missed the taste and feel of him. The idea of being with him, being _married_ to him, staying with him for as long as life would allow, still seemed too good to be true. Like he was in a dream. 

But he could feel the wind at his back. He could feel Dimitri’s fingers sweeping up into his hair, could feel the softness of his lips, the fire in his own heart, all of it, he could feel. It was real, and coming to terms with that caused joy to overflow in his heart, so powerful he barely knew how to handle it. If he’d had to fight more than most to get what he wanted from life, at least the payoff was more than he ever could have wished for.

Finally, they broke apart, and Dimitri followed Claude up to the front steps of the little cottage on the edge of the field. It was wooden and quaint, with a few horses and other farm animals attached to fencing on one side, and well-worn wooden benches outside. As they approached, the music that had been playing over the wind slowly faded; Claude’s mother, sitting on one of the benches outside, saw them approaching, and slowly put her instrument down.

Claude could hear her call for his father, and a moment later, he opened the front door. A golden tasselled bell hung on the front of it, and it chimed as he stepped out and stared, speechless, at Claude and Dimitri walking up.

It was silent when the four of them finally met. Claude could have cried, seeing his parents again; it had been forever. His father looked more aged than his mother, though Claude chalked it up to political stresses and the endless battling. A braid hung from his head like the one Claude used to wear, wrapped in a golden and purple ribbon. His mother, meanwhile, was now dressed in a traditional Almyran robe, golden silk like the sun and the rolling plains.

“Mom, Dad,” Claude said, intertwining his fingers with Dimitri briefly as he spoke, “this is my fiance, the King of Fodlan.”

“Fiance?” his father exclaimed, his jaw dropping. He lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head. His mother, meanwhile, simply took a step forward and took one of Dimitri’s hands, clasping it in both of her own. 

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, looking somewhat emotional. “Thank you for looking after Claude.” 

“The pleasure is mine,” Dimitri replied, as king-like as ever, and bowed deep to her. He turned his attention to Claude’s dad, who suddenly seemed to snap back into reality.

“Fuck’s sake,” he exclaimed, more surprised than rude, and as Claude’s mother let go of Dimitri’s hands, his father stepped forward to embrace Dimitri in a tight hug that caught him completely off guard. He slapped the man hard on the back, and Claude stifled a laugh as Dimitri looked at him in shock from over his father’s burly shoulders.

“Nadia and Jorges,” Claude said to Dimitri as his father finally stepped away. 

“Well,” Jorges said, slapping his hands together, “you boys must be hungry, eh? Let’s get to the party.”

“Party?” Claude asked, glancing curiously at his mother, who laughed a little at his surprise.

“We saw your wyvern taking off earlier, Claude. The whole town knows. They’re throwing a bonfire.” 

“Aah… and here I wanted it to be a nice quiet evening with the four of us,” Claude sighed, grinning a bit despite himself. He looked sideways at Dimitri. “Sorry. Looks like we’re going whether we like it or not.” 

It wasn’t a big town, where his parents had their home away from home. It was smaller, more tight-knit, and full of people who knew full well who Claude was and who his parents were. That said, even as King of Almyra, when Claude arrived at the party, people greeted him as if he was simply an old friend who had spent a long time away. And Claude wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

As the sun set, it was nothing but non-stop introductions between the townsfolk and Dimitri, who had been lent some of Claude’s clothes for the occasion. He looked nervous, as anyone would be, but Claude kept noticing him sneaking looks at him, his eyes bright in the firelight of the torches that lit the town square. 

“I hope it’s not too much,” Claude said to him as they sat atop a fence to take a break.

“No, it’s… fantastic,” Dimitri said honestly, looking out at the party before turning back to Claude. “I’m impressed with how many of these people you know by name.” 

“Whenever I wasn’t in Derdriu, I spent all my time here,” Claude said fondly. “This was where I ran away to. This was home.”

“It’s a wonderful home,” Dimitri said, but he looked distracted a second later. “Your parents seem lovely.” 

“I hope you know, they’re going to take you in as if you’re their own,” Claude replied with a laugh. 

“I… would very much like that,” Dimitri answered breathlessly. Claude watched him, staring out at the bonfire in the center of the square, lost in thought. It was bittersweet, knowing that Dimitri, who had lost his parents still somewhat recently, now had Claude’s to lean on. There was something achingly poignant about it, and Claude didn’t want to give him too much time to think on it. Not during a party.

As if on time, music suddenly picked up from a band that included Claude’s mother and her fiddle. A few whistling cheers erupted, and people began to surround the bonfire, their feet barely touching the ground as they danced, kicked, and clapped. At first it was just the strings, but then the drums hit, and it wasn’t long until Claude - and Dimitri- were each pulled into the fray. 

The beat was too contagious to resist. An inescapable energy built up inside Claude as he smiled, feeling his feet hit the ground, lift, then hit again on the beat; he saw Dimitri being hopelessly dragged along by his father, and took it upon himself to rescue him, bringing his hands to his and pulling him around to face him.

“Not like the ball, is it?” Claude asked, watching Dimitri’s clumsy footwork in amusement. 

“It’s so fast!” Dimitri protested, though he was smiling anyways as they moved quickly around the bonfire amidst the crowd of people that were now all dancing in unison. When Dimitri at least seemed to have the rhythm, Claude let go, unable to help himself; he spun, his arms lifting into the air and hands clapping together to the beat as they moved, bowing the next minute and lifting up once more to see Dimitri watching him, still moving to the music, absolutely speechless. 

Claude winked at him, thinking back to that dance at the monastery, and how grateful he was that he stole Dimitri away for a dance that night. After everything, all the strife, Claude felt like he would always be home as long as he was beside Dimitri.


End file.
